Toolbar blog

Free Olympic Games App

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Fri, 11 May 2012 15:55:00 +0000

Yesterday, the Olympic Flame was lit at Olympia, Greece, marking the start of a 70 day relay around Britain, travelling some 8,000 miles. The flame will reach the London 2012 venue on the 27th July - the Olympic cauldron will be ignited, marking the start of the games. The flame is a mark of purity, and is captured from the sun, via a parabolic mirror.

Here at Streaming Internet Radio Toolbar, we want you to experience the thrill of the games - from today, until the games finish on the 12th August, you can keep in touch with all the very latest news with our free Olympic Games App.

To grab our free app, please visit the app installation page - the app isn't a default offering on your toolbar, so if you want to keep up to date with Olympic News, you have to visit the install page. As with other apps that we offer you, installation will takes seconds to complete.

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Latest Olympic Games Headlines
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Get it here.

If you don't have our toolbar, and would like to keep in touch with Olympic News, and much more, please CLICK HERE to commence your download.

Review: Bahamas - Barchords

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Mon, 07 May 2012 12:01:00 +0000

“I’m putting this album out at a time when there’s so much competition to be heard,” notes Afie Jurvanen in the press materials surrounding Barchords, his second album as Bahamas, before going on to consider the difficulty of forging and maintaining connections in the digital age. Whether that be on a personal scale or regarding the countless new acts it is now easier to gain access to than ever before, he makes a good point; it is intimidating, and is something he chooses to counter by simply putting himself out there.

This record arrives in the UK off the back of some impressive press for his 2009 debut Pink Strat, which received nominations in his native Canada from the Polaris and Juno Prizes respectively. But it is, at first, a little underwhelming. The fact that he spent years recording and touring with Feist on keys and guitars is readily apparent in its tasteful production and simple melodies, while his voice is languid, relaxed – a honeyed M. Ward; a less-soporific Jack Johnson (whose Brushfire imprint picked this up, incidentally).

But give the record a chance – really, it won’t take long – and it turns out to be his voice that makes it a little bit special, giving it an edge over the thousands of other albums Jurvanen frets it might wind up lost beside. Put simply, Barchords is an enormously likeable set of songs, and it is his voice that anchors and steers them. Lead single Caught Me Thinking is a breezy, brassy delight; Overjoyed a rousing, bluesy ballad; and listening to album opener Lost in the Light a little deeper, a little louder, reveals the almost magical sense of urgency that lights up his former collaborator’s catalogue.

Barchords sounds bright and sparkling, too; again, were it not for the promise of greater depth lying plainly amongst these songs it would be easy to dismiss them as bland, empty offerings. As it stands, Bahamas’ music fulfils that promise in a manner so assured and unaffected that it ranks as one of the most refreshingly direct and enjoyable albums of the year so far.

Bahamas - Lost In The Light

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The world according to Graves...

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Sat, 05 May 2012 23:59:00 +0000

Graves, aged 68, from Prenton, Merseyside is a very strange character, with what appears to be some real anger management issues, if the title of his personal blog is anything to go by. Rons Rants, has attempted to blacken my name, and that of some friends of mine by distorting facts.

I've been following conversations carefully during the day, on Twitter - they ended with Ron Graves posting on his blog, and others Tweeting that my friends should be beaten into pulp.

The group of people behind all of this have accused me of being a troll, and other unsubstantiated crap. Some have even said that I was libellous - Graves said: "Bust the Bastard" from the confines of his crypt.

Yes - you read that correctly (above). Physical violence was threatened:

I can rest easy in that I didn't offer violence as a solution to the problem that had presented to us all today. Unfortunately, @blissfulblues did. Some people shut up shop, and run to their friends - the truth is often twisted to suit their own needs, or by others. It's real sad that this happens. A few extra exchanges between initial parties may have resolved the situation, but now we will never know. Shame.

My chance to set the record straight
A dear friend of mine, has a child that was attending a Young Firefighters course. The aims of the Young Firefighters Scheme is to encourage young people, especially those who are unlikely to achieve academically and may have social problems, to take part in a structured course to help them develop a range of skills.

My friend posted on Twitter:

Oooooo one of the fire brigade big wigs is here for young firefighters passing out parade!

This was responded to, by @petersmam - one of my friends followers:

This tweet caused some concern from a number of people, including myself. I responded:

You do realise that these are kids you are tweeting about? That was just wrong, and very worrying from a grown woman.

Apparently, my tweet to her didn't go down very well with @petersmam - she went straight onto the defensive - accusing me of being judgemental. She responded with:

Actually no, I didn't realise it was kids. Thanks for being so judgemental.

The woman then cut my friend out of the conversation, and tweeted to me:

@petersmam believes that I called her a pervert. I did not. Some of her friends called for legal action to be taken against myself. If you read the timeline, you can see very clearly that I didn't call her a pervert, or any other name. I did point out that Paedophilia wasn't a joke - this was not a name call, or a judgment against @petersmam. Just a fact.

It is however, double standards, that someone can call her a pervert, and get off with no repercusions. It does make you think that this was a targetted attack against me, and my friend, for questioning a comment that upset a number of people.

Following my responses, and some verbal mud slinging that was thrown in my direction, I responded to a claim that I was pathetic, using the Twitlonger service - Twitlonger was chosen as 140 characters on Twitter isn't long enough to get over what you want to say.

I wasn't going to respond, but I can't help myself. Right then... petersmam was wrong by jumping halfway into a conversation without checking. The timeline would show you that this was an awards ceremony for children at a local fire station. By tweeting about young firemen, a number of people were concerned by the way it was put over. She tried to defend herself by tweeting to me that it was a joke. Hence my remark. I think joking about things like this are NOT funny. Petersmam has run away, and hidden instead of fighting her case... she stated that she didn't care what people thought. Now, that is really pathetic.

I had attempted to diffuse the situation, but with @petersmam not speaking to me, things were difficult to relay my thoughts. Bullshit Ron didn't help matters by sending private messages, stirring the whole unsavoury episode in the background. I was quite happy to sit things out, and let the issue blow over - unfortunately, he saw fit to go on a search and destroy mission via his blog. Maybe he thought, with his army of followers, he could batter me into submission? He thought wrong. You see, I've been around long enough to know his type. I also know that with my 134,000+ toolbar users, the associated 43,555,500+ app users, plus my four other websites, that I have the support to reinforce my message. That is:

I haven't done anything wrong, and neither has my friend.

Maybe Ron is just a bitter and twisted person, as a result of his disability - in my book, it's no excuse, and does a real disservice to those that get on with their problems. People need to grasp life, and enjoy it, instead of sitting at home, complaining about all and sundry. Hopefully, @petersmam will see through the bitterness that spews from Graves' poisonous mouth - his sick comment to a lady suffering a dislocated jaw, left an awful lot to be desired.

I do have a complete time line of tweets from all parties involved in this fiasco. Graves believes that I'm "peeved" at being blocked by him, on Twitter - if you believe blocking people on Twitter prevents them from reading what you write, you have a lot to learn!

Message to Ron - delete your personal attack upon myself, and I'll delete this blog entry.
You know it makes sense.

Review: Norah Jones

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Tue, 01 May 2012 10:41:00 +0000

On 2011’s Rome, singer Norah Jones, producer Brian ‘Danger Mouse’ Burton, guitarist Jack White and film score composer Daniele Luppi paid homage to old Italo-Western movies with twinkling chimes, twangy guitar riffs, and notable vocal performances. While many of the instrumentals held up without words, the concept album saw new life when White and Jones took to the microphone. On the song Black, for example, Jones’ rich textures added a sultry layer to the reflective composition. On Problem Queen, she injected the same dreamy resonance into the melody, except the results were livelier than before, thanks to the track’s rolling keys and buoyant percussion. If anything could be gleaned from the project, it’s that good things happen when Jones sings atop Burton’s arrangements.

On Little Broken Hearts, the two musicians explore the concept of heartbreak, investigating its unpleasant aspects with refreshing candour and sardonic wit. Albums about heartbreak certainly aren’t new, but Jones puts a fresh spin on the familiar topic with lovelorn musings that are wistful and carefree, meditative and ebullient. Good Morning, the album’s effective opener, is a delightfully sweet blend of airy synthesizers and melancholic strings, held together by Jones’ angelic falsetto. “I’m folding my hand,” the singer softly repeats over Burton’s oceanic production. She’s 22 carries a similar ventilated backdrop, but the result is a bit more pensive when paired with Jones’ gloomy deliberation: “You can throw away, every word I say.”

Then there’s the haunting Miriam, a morbidly sublime tune on which the singer threatens the woman with whom her man cheats. Here, Jones sings: “I’m gonna smile when I take your life.” Conversely, Happy Pills and Say Goodbye are cheery pop fare, on which the vocalist sings joyously about the break-up. Amid funky guitar grooves, Jones sounds playfully detached from said relationship. Therein lays the success of Little Broken Hearts. Unlike other disheartened recordings, some of which are more sullen than others, Jones never sounds too depressed on this set. Instead, she keeps the mood fairly moderate amongst Burton’s fluid soundtrack, setting the pace with a wry bravado that makes this album a dynamic listen, even if she’s dumping a guy. Heartbreak is inevitable if you love hard enough, yet Jones and Burton make it enjoyable.

Norah Jones - Happy Pills

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Review: T. Rex - Electric Warrior

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Sat, 21 Apr 2012 07:01:00 +0000

Given they were teen Mod rivals, pals and frustrated wannabes in the 1960s before both quickly bypassed mere stardom for glam rock superstar deity status, the comparisons between Marc Bolan and David Bowie is endlessly fascinating. But there the comparisons end. While Bowie endlessly transmuted with each record, even in his moribund 80s, Bolan capitulated to repetitive and diminishing returns until his fatal car crash in 1977. While Bowie killed off Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars 18 months after launching him, Bolan’s 1974 album Zinc Alloy and the Hidden Riders of Tomorrow was a bizarre gesture of solidarity, or simply a lame parody. Yet Bolan’s crowning glory is still a beauty – a slice of solid gold easy action, as a later T. Rex single put it.

This needs repeating as Bolan’s reputation is one of pop frivolity, more Gary Glitter than Ziggy or Aladdin. But for four years, from Tyrannosaurus Rex’s Unicorn and A Beard of Stars albums through the abbreviated name’s self-titled debut and Electric Warrior (1972’s The Slider was too patchy to continue the run), Bolan shone, with his corkscrew hair, pioneering dabs of glitter and Larry-the-Lamb-like warble. Brilliantly arranged by (Bowie’s former producer/bandmate) Tony Visconti, the album blends 50s retro distilled from Chuck Berry with modern camp thrust, infused with what Bowie’s tribute Lady Stardust called, “an animal grace”. Even before Bowie, Bolan had unlocked Pandora’s Box for all the young dudes and dudettes bored by their brothers and sisters’ Beatles and Stones records, and the opening Mambo Sun nails that sea change. Over a sinewy, clipped guitar riff and echoed drum beat, Bolan breathlessly announces “Beneath the be-bop moon/I wanna croon with you,” throws in his first “owwww!” and takes a bluesy brief guitar solo full of animal grace.

Cosmic Dancer (later covered by Morrissey) follows, an ecstatic dream ballad with darkly contrasting cellos that single-handedly confirms Bolan’s brilliance. Then again, the song’s couplet – “What’s it like to be a loon? I liken it to a balloon” – confirmed his any-rhyme-will-do laziness that predicted his creative collapse. But in the face of Get It On and Jeepster – both outrageously hook-lined and joyous smash hit singles – and the delicate croon of Life’s a Gas, the jittery finale Rip Off and the less-acknowledged beauties Girl and Planet Queen, Bolan’s slithery swagger is irresistible. In the box set version, this re-mastered, annotated 40th anniversary edition has all the unreleased demos/out-takes and DVD footage you could crave, but the original 11 tracks are all anyone truly needs. As Bowie’s Starman put it: “Let all the children boogie.” Ziggy knew that Marc had got there first.

T. Rex – Get It On

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Review : Alabama Shakes

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 12:25:00 +0000

When Alabama Shakes played at London’s Boston Arms in February, the media played up Russell Crowe’s attendance. But more prescient and thrilling was the sweaty audience dancing their nads off and, at the after-party, singer Brittany Howard throwing herself around to 20th Century Boy. The Shakes cover T. Rex’s glam boogie as part of their reclaiming of a spirit descended from classic blues, R&B and rock’n’roll, as witnessed by other covers including Otis Redding and AC/DC cuts. This vintage fusion has been nailed by a quartet barely out of their teens and has been hotly anticipated since the band broke cover, touring with Drive-By Truckers in 2011 after the alt-country crew fell in love with the Shakes’ song You Ain’t Alone.

A treacly soul-blues jam, You Ain’t Alone is a prime example of Howard’s prowess, her voice sounding as if it’s been richly BBQ-ed, like a raw ingénue at the court of Queens Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin. Her charisma doesn’t stop at the music: Hold On’s "Bless my heart / Bless my soul / Didn’t think I’d make it to 22-years-old" is a fantastically arresting start to any record. Lyrics are route-one effective throughout, as you’d expect from an album called Boys & Girls, but the Shakes are not one-dimensional. Rather, they’re a tightly coiled slice of primal southern soul, the sort usually stamped ‘Memphis, Tennessee’; but the band’s hometown of Athens, Alabama – reached via the legendary town of Muscle Shoals – is spitting distance so far as this music is concerned.

Talking of spit, drummer Steve Johnson comes from a punk/metal background, and guitarist Heath Fogg has that indie outlook even if his chops are more Peter Green. Bassist Zac Cockrell, meanwhile, looks like the ghost of Little Feat’s chunky Lowell George has invaded his young body, down to the beard and flat cap. Green and George’s dextrous love of southern Americana is mirrored in the ramshackle sinews of I Found You and Hang Loose’s Creedence groove, but Be Mine is molten like Joplin and her Big Brother (and the) Holding Company, and Carl Perkins’ influences is hereabouts too. It’s R&B, but not as Rihanna knows it.

Russell Crowe may not be a barometer of taste, but if Alabama Shakes aren’t the feel-good hit of the summer festivals, this writer will eat his flat cap.

Alabama Shakes - Hold On

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Review: Esperanza Spalding - Radio Music Society

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Mon, 02 Apr 2012 12:39:00 +0000

After the breakthrough of 2010’s Chamber Music Society, the album which saw bassist-vocalist Esperanza Spalding grab a Best New Artist Grammy as Justin Bieber’s publicists wondered, “Who’s she?” comes the tricky business of, “What’s next?”

Jazz snobs might already be turning up noses and closing down ears at a musician tainted by mainstream accolades, but Spalding was touring with saxophone colossus Joe Lovano a few months after waltzing off with the headline-making statuette. So everybody would do well to avoid a rush to premature judgment. In any case, as she showed on her 2008 album Esperanza, she really has her heart in that hallowed place in the 70s when soul, funk, jazz and Latin sounds liberally intertwined to break down the barrier between highbrow and pop sensibilities in African-American music.

She likes songs as well as solos. Her guiding spirits are Stevie Wonder and Wayne Shorter, both of whom she covers here. Hence there is no end of chordal finesse, finely wrought melodies, subtle but nonetheless hard-edged rhythmic pulsation, and above all a glowing sound canvas – electric piano colours à la Innervisions are dominant. Spalding is too able a musician to botch this template, so the obvious enquiry is: does she bring sufficient personality to the table to avoid being derivative?

For the most part, yes. There are times when the sources of inspiration are perhaps just too telegraphic, but a piece such as Cinnamon Tree, with its swish countermelody of hauntingly low, grainy strings has a subtle lyricism similar to what can be heard on Spalding’s auspicious 2006 debut Junjo, while a rollicking, densely layered reprise of Shorter’s sadly neglected gem Endangered Species shows a pleasing degree of lateral thinking. Furthermore, a quite sprawling list of star collaborators – the aforesaid Lovano, drummer Jack Dejohnette, and guitarist Lionel Loueke among others – ensures a high standard of execution.

While some may accuse Spalding of playing safe, the 27-year-old has produced quality material at this still early stage of her career. We know that she has talent as abundant as her Afro. The essential question is: what will it grow into?

Esperanza Spalding - Black Gold

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Review: Madonna MDNA

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Fri, 30 Mar 2012 08:59:00 +0000

Madonna is judged to a higher standard than the common or garden songbird. When you've sold 300 million records, racked up enough hits to omit Deeper and Deeper from your two-CD greatest hits set, and generally become the sort of pop culture colossus who can publish a book featuring a photo of yourself hang-gliding naked, well, people just expect more.

Which is why the opening song on her 12th studio album is so disheartening. It's a fairly charmless genero-banger called Girls Gone Wild on which this 53-year-old mother-of-four trills: "You got me in the zone / DJ play my favourite song."

MDNA picks up as soon as it finishes, but it's never the most innovative or sonically adventurous Madonna LP. Featuring production from French DJ Martin Solveig, house maestro Benny Benassi and Madge veteran William Orbit, it sounds contemporary(ish) rather than cutting edge. Nor is it a cohesive artistic statement like 1998's Ray of Light. At times, Madonna seems to be using her lyrics to teach her kids the meaning of the word cliché. If she's not "a fish out of water", she's "a bat out of hell" or "a moth to a flame"… Got it now, Rocco?

However, there's no denying MDNA delivers thrills. In true Ciccone fashion, club pop pounders like Some Girls, Love Spent and Turn Up the Radio seem to push a bit harder than the competition – that last one's got a drop like an open manhole. MDNA also has something the last two Madge albums lacked: ballads, both of which are quite lovely.

Best of all, several moments prompt a welcome sigh: "God, only Madonna". Gang Bang is a preposterous piece of pop schlock featuring gangster film sound effects and the old girl gunning – quite literally – for revenge. I Don't Give A has Madge rapping and ribbing herself in the process: "Ride my horse, break some bones / Take it down a semitone." I'm Addicted climaxes with a pulse-quickening "M-D-N-A" chant; when they're old enough, it'll define ‘iconoclastic’ to her brood.

The result? It's got its faults, but MDNA isn't just a good pop album, it's a good Madonna album too.

Madonna - Girl Gone Wild

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Review: Blood Red Shoes

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 16:50:00 +0000

From a David Lynch-obsessed boy-girl duo with a background in discordant punk, you may expect a musical slant that teeters on the subversive. But while Blood Red Shoes displayed a more erratic style back in 2010 on second album Fire Like This, this third feels formulaic – highly thought-out and polished. Inevitable, given the stage in their eight-year career and ambitious ethos, and for the most part the strategy pays off.

There are some favourite tactics on this album that are tried and tested. Opener In Time To Voices, for instance, starts with It’s Blitz-period Yeah Yeah Yeahs vocals from guitarist Laura-Mary Carter, softly setting a lucid scene.

The bridge quickens the pace, before Steve Ansell’s boisterous drums flip the sound into a scuzzy tempest. This structure is repeated throughout, and the contrast between the pair’s approaches is one of the band’s marked strengths.

On Lost Kids the Brighton-based duo share vocal duties, Carter’s pirouetting an octave above Ansell’s hoarse hum, proclaiming they “can’t find their way / already buried anyway” (untrue, given how comfortable they sound with their matured sound). Carter’s signature guitar riffs have also been streamlined. Erstwhile Foals producer Mike Crossey has been a valuable mentor, adding some real shimmer when finishing off this masterful project.

Particularly impressive is how palpably the band member’s personas shine. Ansell’s background is in chaotic hardcore, in bands like Cat on Form. His energy is most buoyant in Je Me Perds, which angrily bursts in with a scream and 90s hardcore drum throbs. Carter adds some Poly Styrene vocals here, but it’s on preceding track Night Light that her winsome nature is echoed in mournful, pared-down acoustic beauty.

But however much this album leaps about, a pastiche of various genres, there are some deliberately bankable and commercially viable songs clearly set for single release. Cold, for instance, has a driving guitar riff, pattering drum rolls and an anthemic pop chorus – sure enough, it’s this LP’s lead single. But this is a band unafraid of hard graft, whose songwriting approach has grown to be admirably astute, so for this they can be forgiven.
Blood Red Shoes – Cold

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Chiddy Bang - Breakfast

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 12:19:00 +0000

When is a debut album not a debut album? When it’s a free mixtape. Broken via MySpace, Philadelphia rapper/MC Chidera ‘Chiddy’ Anamege and his studio-wiz partner Noah ‘Xaphoon Jones’ Bersin made waves in 2009 with The Swelly Express, whose mix of originals and samples included the irresistible MGMT-raiding Opposite of Adults. The Sufjan Stevens-sampling All Things Go was even better.

2010’s mini-follow-up Air Swell embraced La Roux, Ellie Goulding, Tinie Tempah and Gorillaz in a smash-and-grab of UK rhythm aces. Ye olde trick of hooks sweetening hip hop’s blunter impact felt fresh for a change. But as an official debut three years after The Swelly Express, the virtually sample-free Breakfast has a lot to prove.

Clearly Chiddy Bang don’t just know a good hook, they can fashion one too, as Breakfast’s lead single Ray Charles shows; it’s symptomatic of their way of combining something insanely catchy and just as brief, but the soulful piano riff oozing retro charm in the style of Raphael Saadiq (likewise the Blue Brothers-referencing video) is evidence of something much more sophisticated. VV Brown’s (uncredited) vocal on Happening is another slice of soul-pop bounce, but it underlines the obvious Chiddy formula, of hooks so simple they resemble playground chants and nursery rhymes.

In the one sample-based track, Mind Your Manners, it’s the turn of haughty Swedish electro-pop girl duo Icona Pop’s single Manners, a great counterpart to Chiddy’s swagger and punch. The slower jam Does She Love Me? has a perfectly formed three-note hook that sounds like a robot child, as if Chiddy are only content in a state of arrested adolescence. The fact they sampled MGMT’s Kids for Opposite of Adults doesn’t seem to be a coincidence.

Breakfast sparkles less when the boys force themselves to act their age. The title-track (not the same as Air Swell’s Breakfast) is, strangely, one of the most uneventful tracks, 4th Quarter is an anti-climatic finale, and Whatever We Want only comes alive with the chorus. But Bersin’s a smooth operator: Run It Back taps the same velvet melancholia as Frank Ocean, Talking to Myself could almost be a 21st century Hall & Oates, and Out 2 Space is simply great hip-pop, a space-age soul-rap with Neptunes-style fizz. It helps Breakfast be a more balanced meal, despite the album’s predominant diet of candy hooks and bouncy-castle rhythm. So, less Philly steak, more like Chiddy Bang’s beloved Nando’s; an instant hit with tasty ingredients, and worth waiting for.

Chiddy Bang – Ray Charles

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Meat Loaf - Hell in a Handbasket

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 09:55:00 +0000

If we are to assume that Meat Loaf, who doesn't author his own material, has some influence over the conceptual weave of his albums, then we must also assume that his writers were commissioned to write songs reflecting not only his personal malaise, but also his anger at the madness of the modern world.

However, this being Loaf – a born entertainer if ever there was one – any ostensibly serious intent is compromised by his unwillingness to nail his colours to the mast. You don't want to alienate your fans, after all. So all he's prepared to communicate is a sort of non-specific rage couched in generic metaphors about rainstorms, making him sound less like an apocalyptic preacher and more like a weatherman having a mental breakdown.

"These are my emotions," he thunders on All of Me, as if daring us to believe otherwise. While it's silly to get hung up on notions of integrity when dealing with Loaf – he is, after all, a distinctive interpreter who treats every song as though it's an epic mini-movie – it's simply not good enough to splutter "I cannot believe this stuff!" without bothering to explain what said stuff actually is.

Since his musical evolution, such as it is, stopped circa 1989, when fist-clenching stadium rock ruled supreme, perhaps he's still hacked off about the Iran/Contra crisis. It's impossible to tell. Even a cameo from Chuck D – yes, really – fails to elucidate.

Sonically, Loaf's latest largely ignores the faux-operatic power ballads for which he's best known in favour of bombastic rockers with ready-made choruses. But aside from the inherently – albeit fleetingly – amusing nature of its trademark excess, overall it lacks that knowing sense of humour which characterises his best work. Maybe the continuing absence of his erstwhile mentor, Jim Steinman, is to blame.

Unconvincing and overbearing, it's like being ambushed by the cast of a Broadway rock musical. A Broadway rock musical with a sort of, y'know, political message. And stuff.

Meat Loaf California Dreamin [With Patti Russo]

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Emeli Sandé - Our Version of Events

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 10:06:00 +0000

Emeli Sandé’s aptly-named solo debut single Heaven was arguably the finest British pop song released in 2011. The Scottish singer-songwriter’s seraphic vocal swoops and producer Shahid ‘Naughty Boy’ Khan’s reassuring old-school breakbeats were warmly received by listeners, while a striking similarity to Massive Attack’s Unfinished Sympathy can rarely hurt a song’s success.

Considering Heaven, which opens Our Version of Events, and the fact Sandé has written for everyone from Alicia Keys and Leona Lewis to Tinie Tempah, Sugababes and even Susan Boyle, it's perhaps reasonable to expect the most consistently great pop album since Girls Aloud’s Out of Control. Although this doesn’t arrive, we do have a charming and occasionally moving record full of care and polish, effort and grace.

"I can’t buy your love, don’t even want to try / Sometimes the truth won’t make you happy," sings Sandé on My Kind of Love, amid filtered pianos and surprisingly understated gospel chants. Lovely stuff, but it would have been a more compelling listen if the track was ludicrous and overblown, like the brilliant George Michael and Mary J. Blige cover of Stevie Wonder’s As.

Previous single Daddy is better. There’s a dose of believably bad male behaviour: "But friends keep telling you what he did last night / How many girls he kissed, how many he liked." Fittingly, the brooding mood created by a trip-hop beat and dramatic strings is reminiscent of another man famously lacking caution in his relationships: James Bond. On this evidence, expect Sandé to soundtrack a 007 movie within the next five years with the help of former grime man Khan.

A change of tone towards slow folk for Breaking the Law brings forth the album’s best lines: "Point it out, I’m gonna steal it / I will break in late at night, shake up how you’re feeling." Metaphorical though Sandé’s lyrics are, they retain a heartfelt truth, and it’s easy to imagine her peering round a corner at last summer’s protests and riots jotting notes feverishly.

Lifetime has a reference to books being burned and statues falling, while Hope includes the line, "I hope we can fix all that we burn". Barely a year after the Arab Spring, is it too much to hope for a politically-conscious pop star? One who can write brilliant songs and get fans thinking about something other than their broken hearts and rampant libidos?

The album ends with a version of Read All About It, the number one song she performed with Professor Green – whatever her motivation for including it here, neither Sandé’s talent nor ambition are in question. It seems unlikely she’ll make another album as restrained as this one, but it will be interesting to see whether she embraces a bolder sound, develops her own big ideas or, perhaps, delivers a captivating combination of the two.

Emeli Sandé - Next to me

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Pinterest on your toolbar

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 10:40:00 +0000

Pinterest is the latest social networking phenomenon and is available on your Streaming Internet Radio toolbar.

If you aren’t yet a Pinterest member, you can sign up here.

Pinterest is a virtual Pinboard, which allows you to Pin and Share the things that you discover on the web. You can also link Pinterest to your Facebook & Twitter accounts, to share even further!

To access the Pinterest sharing button from your toolbar, click:
Menu > Webpage Tools > Share on Pinterest

Goldfrapp - The Singles

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 11:40:00 +0000

One of the many fascinating things about Goldfrapp throughout their 12-year career has been the impossibility of pinning them down. Emerging from trip-hop’s ashes, debut Felt Mountain dealt in moody, manicured atmospherics, purpose-built for adverts and dinner parties. Then came their dramatic, wildly successful volte-face into Black Cherry’s sleazy, scuzzy electro. Just as they seemed to have settled down as dancefloor dominators with Supernature they mutated again, into the semi-acoustic, mumbling melancholy of Seventh Tree. This singles retrospective finally offers a chance to assess their wayward career as a whole. It makes one thing absolutely clear: whatever else they were up to, Goldfrapp have always delivered astonishing pop singles.

From the moment the swaggering Ooh La La begins its slow-building throb from the speakers until the moment the hushed, stunned Black Cherry staggers to its tear-stained denouement, Singles offers a master-class in how to write pop songs as alluring and adventurous in their sonic texture as they are addictive melodically. Alison Goldfrapp’s greatest achievement hasn’t been her power and range, which she has often concealed, but her willingness to surrender her voice to the needs of the songs she and Will Gregory so lovingly assembled. She’s the anti-Aguilera, enemy of X Factor showboaters everywhere.

On one of their biggest hits, the stately synth prowl of Number 1, Goldfrapp barely breaks a vocal sweat, restraining herself to a seductive, low-key purr throughout. It’s only in the dying seconds of Utopia, a song that is somehow both sinister and almost unbearably beautiful, that she finally unleashes an operatic wail so electrifying it paralyses the listener. Elsewhere, on the ravishing fusion of Moroder disco, glam strut and snarling electronica that is Strict Machine, Goldfrapp is all gasps, gulps and sexual ecstasy, while on Rocket she goes for the pop jugular, slamming home the monster "wo-oh-oh" chorus with glorious nonchalance.

It’s perhaps inevitable that a singles collection smoothes out the awkward edges and perversity that made Goldfrapp vastly more intriguing than their rivals, and which have profoundly influenced our best new pop stars, from Lady Gaga to Robyn. Only the buzz-saw synths that carry the lurching Train along and the shredding electronic howls that shatter Lovely Head’s narcotic sleepiness remind us of how deliciously odd they could be. If the lovely but meandering new songs Yellow Halo and Melancholy Sky are anything to go by, it’s an oddity that Goldfrapp may have left behind anyway.

Still, even minor criticisms of this collection seem not just churlish but flat-out ungrateful. Fourteen songs that veer between the perfect and the merely outstanding, The Singles is proof that Goldfrapp have been the most versatile and most consistently, glitteringly brilliant pop band of our new millennium.

Goldfrapp - Melancholy Sky

This work (text) is licensed under a Creative Commons Licence from BBC Music.

Craig Finn - Clear Heart Full Eyes

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 10:54:00 +0000

Craig Finn describes himself as the kind of writer who sits in the back seat of the car driven by his characters, taking notes. For the sake of his sanity and general health, this is doubtless a good thing. On Lord, I’m Discouraged, a song from The Hold Steady’s 2008 album Stay Positive, the Minnesota-born resident of Brooklyn profiles an unrequited love whose life is sliding into the despair of drug addiction. "The sutures and bruises are none of my business / She says that she’s sick but won’t get specific," he sings, later adding: "I know it’s unlikely she’ll ever be mine / So I mostly just pray she don’t die."

To say that Finn is a lyricist of uncommon humanity, not to mention one possessed of a fine attention to detail, is to understate the case. On Clear Heart Full Eyes, he shrouds his tales of foolish people lost on long wanderings on the inexpensive side of the tracks with music that is less dense than that offered by The Hold Steady. That band has been described by American Psycho author and alt-punk expert Bret Easton Ellis as being the finest group in the United States; their sound is a tough one to better. Fans of the group will identify with Finn’s solo flight in no small part due to the distinctive treble-heavy voice and narrative style, but songs such as the sparse Apollo Bay – which sees the narrator drunk on similarly treble-heavy Victoria Bitter in Australia – and the gentle Not Much Left of Us offer something different from the author’s usual work.

But as fine as the music on offer here happens to be – and often it’s very fine indeed – it is Finn’s sense of humanity in lyrical form that really sets this album apart. "From the way you picked up the phone, I could tell you weren’t going to die / February is as long as it is wide," is the opening sentiment of No Future, and an early contender for couplet of the year. Elsewhere figures as diverse as Freddie Mercury and John Lydon are thrown into the mix, characters listen to Ozzy Osbourne and KISS in studio apartments, as well as a whole host of city-dwellers whose lives are led on the serrated edge that separates good people from bad. It is these people, and the fact that their creator has sufficient skill to humanise them and have the listener care about their fate, that makes Clear Heart Full Eyes a work of understated beauty.

Craig Finn - Honolulu Blues

This work (text) is licensed under a Creative Commons Licence.
© BBC Music

Howler - America Give Up

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 16:42:00 +0000

It would make it easy for lazy critics if Howler proved to be a real dog of a band, causing pre-release naysayers to howl with laughter. But the tipped Minneapolis mob has delivered a succinct and energetic debut album that casts aside any doubts as to their qualities.

Having turned heads with a series of fiery (and fleeting) live shows, frontman Jordan Gatesmith’s crew have wasted little time in realising an album of thoroughly contagious, albeit fairly derivative, Strokes-flavoured gutter-rock. These 11 tracks zip by, dashing from start to finish in a breathtaking 32 minutes.

There may be a paucity of original ideas across this set’s running time, but it will stir within listeners memories of great moments in gutter-rock history. When Gatesmith sings, "I scrape my kneeeeeeees," on America it sounds like Lou Reed has temporarily stolen his microphone. Elsewhere, Back to the Grave’s macabre but fun lyrics – "I want someone to take me out tonight / We’ll go back to the grave before we turn out the lights" – could easily be lifted from a lost Ramones tune.

Scientists have yet to convincingly prove that writing killer song titles automatically enhances your chances of sexual and financial success but, if they do, Howler are in for a sweet future. Another (perchance rotten) peach of a title, alongside Back to the Grave, is the album’s opener: Beach Sluts. Its riffs are reminiscent of The Drums or The Vaccines, but it also has handclaps aplenty, and it’s this palm-on-palm percussion that carries the track towards greatness.

Too Much Blood (another great title) slows down the outfit’s punkier tendencies to hiss and snarl like The Jesus and Mary Chain, while Free Drunk (yet another marvellous moniker) is this debut’s greatest moment. Its chorus melodies might be stolen from Tom Petty, but here we find Gatesmith’s most widescreen and windswept vocal, impressive atop feedback and riffs that feel like dirt underneath your fingernails. Top stuff.

There is one moment of (unintentional?) hilarity on the album: the third song is called This One’s Different, but anyone expecting a panpipe version of Cotton Eye Joe will be disappointed. Instead the song’s riffs paint pictures of whiskey-swillers in leatherjackets, just like every other song here. But what better way to fight off the dull winter?

Howler - Back Of Your Neck

This work (text) is licensed under a Creative Commons Licence.
© BBC Music

Beverley Knight - Soul UK

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 15:47:00 +0000

The covers album is a noble tradition: a chance for an artist to pay tribute to their roots, to avoid writing any new material, and to present their listeners with songs that everyone knows they like already, because they’ve heard them. From Bowie to George Michael, John Legend to Paul Weller, a covers set is a chance to tell people where you’re coming from and, often, to pause for breath while you work out where you’re going to next.

Beverly Knight is a brilliant soul singer, who grew up at a time when black British music wasn’t as united as it is in these days of grime riding high in the pop charts. High quality dance and soulful pop acts struggled to have more than one hit single, and very few – Rod Temperton’s Heatwave and Jazzie B’s Soul II Soul are notable exceptions – were able to maintain albums success and international fame.

Both those acts are referred to here on Soul UK. ‘Soul’ in this insistence is a fairly broad church, referring to the (generally brilliant) soul pop made in Britain over the last 30 years. As a testament to the often-overlooked music made in the days when RnB still meant Big Joe Turner, not Beyoncé, Soul UK is remarkably effective. The songs covered here are wide-ranging, from the Prince-like rock pop of Roachford’s Cuddly Toy to Heatwave’s gorgeous ballad Always and Forever. Knight’s memory and taste are impeccable – it’s nothing but a joy to hear Junior Giscombe’s Mama Used to Say or Princess’ Say I’m Your Number One again.

If there is a criticism of this album – which is certainly a record you’d be enormously hard-pressed to dislike – it’s that Knight doesn’t always find it easy to impose her personality on these well-known tracks. On the great Apparently Nothin’ – and despite an excellent rap break – she doesn’t add anything particular to the Young Disciples original. But when the arrangements and the vocals are given a touch of freshness, as in the Motown’ed-up cover of Cuddly Toy, Knight’s version breathes and her versatility is given room to roam. More of that (and a cover of Linx’s awesome Intuition) would have been nice here, but this is a good record.

Beverley Knight - Cuddly Toy

The Little Willies - For The Good Times

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 09:55:00 +0000

Two albums in eight years might not sound like a particularly great level of productivity – but The Little Willies are no ordinary band. A collective ostensibly fronted by Norah Jones, albeit with ample vocal support from Arden-born folk singer Richard Julian, this outfit came together in 2003 to jam out some much-loved country cuts at New York’s Living Room venue. A debut, self-titled album emerged in 2006, featuring tracks penned by the likes of Kris Kristofferson (Best of All Possible Worlds), Townes Van Zandt (No Place to Fall) and, perhaps inevitably given their chosen moniker, Willie Nelson (I Gotta Get Drunk). For the Good Times follows the formula of its predecessor, offering up a selection of the band’s favourite numbers as well as a jaunty original, the near-instrumental Tommy Rockwood, written by gifted guitarist Jim Campilongo.

There’s plenty of care taken with these covers, the players evidently keen to not tarnish their own memories of the songs in question. Lovesick Blues, the Cliff Friend and Irving Mills show tune that Hank Williams made his own in 1949 when it topped the stateside country chart, is beautifully delivered by Jones and Julian, whose vocals intertwine atop a sparse acoustic backdrop, percussion minimal but just powerful enough to drive the piece forwards. Johnny Cash’s Wide Open Road is given a rather sunnier disposition than the 1950s original, more suited to a swinging barroom than any backwater barn dance. And Jones shines on Loretta Lynn’s 1968 chart-topper Fist City, making it clear that she’s as comfortable with this style as the softer-edged output she’s collected so many Grammy Awards with.

While not all of these selections are familiar to the fair-weather country listener, the closer certainly will be. Dolly Parton’s Jolene was a major international hit in 1973, and appears at number 217 on Rolling Stone’s top 500 songs of all time list. With Jones on vocals and piano, and little else imposing itself prominently onto the mix, the version here is a striking take that swells like a persistent lump in the throat until it’s guided to a close by Campilongo’s gently sighing, delicately twanged guitar work. It’s a downbeat end to what is, predominantly, a wonderfully rousing collection; but it’s an end that, one hopes, points the way to a third instalment of The Little Willies’ refined reinterpretations.

The Little Willies - For The Good Times:

Green Day - 39/Smooth

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 09:16:00 +0000

In 1995 Billie Joe Armstrong wrote a song about a scene populated by people he once considered his friends. 86 appeared on Insomniac, its authors’ tightly coiled and deeply troubled fourth album, which itself succeeded Dookie, the multi-platinum release that had the world telling Armstrong, Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool that while their band was cute its music was not punk.

The fact that just three years prior to their elevation to Millionaires’ Row the Oakland-based trio found themselves on a tour of European squats that saw their frontman contract body lice was neither here nor there. Following their decision to sign with the Warner Music Group-owned Reprise Records, at home the group were disowned by the militant Berkeley punk magazine Maximum RocknRoll and banned from playing at that city’s all-ages not-for-profit venue Gilman Street. "Exit out the back," sings Armstrong on 86, "and never show your head around [here] again."

It is worth repeating that, prior to the success of 1994’s Dookie, American punk rock was not a genre that sent cash registers ringing to any kind of crescendo. Green Day were the first to manage this, and prior to this achievement their genre credentials were impeccable. Released on the tiny Lookout! label, 39/Smooth (pictured/listed) and Kerplunk are early efforts from a band who no one at the time predicted would rise above their modest station. Indeed, their first album, 39/Smooth, was recorded for just $700. Even here, though, one is reminded of drummer Tre Cool’s assertion that seeing Armstrong write a song is the closest thing to magic one will ever witness. Barely 17 at the time, a track such as the magnificent Going to Pasalacqua showed anyone who cared to listen that here stood a writer of already rare talent.

But it was with 1992’s Kerplunk that Green Day really came to the notice of more people than their pay grade suggested possible. Featuring songs of the quality of 2,000 Light Years Away, Christie Road and Welcome to Paradise – a track the group would revisit on Dookie, to devastating effect – with no promotion whatsoever, and with its creators touring in a converted mobile library, Green Day were soon able to draw up to 2,000 people a night in whatever city they visited. To the wider world, the group’s success in 1994 may have appeared to have arrived overnight; but in reality the rumblings of the underground heading upwards had begun in style, some years before.

Green Day - 39/Smooth (Full Album):

Toolbar issues

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 12:16:00 +0000

We are aware of a small number of issues affecting the latest generation of our toolbar and are working hard to produce a fix.

Fixes will be released over the next two weeks addressing the problems that we have received.

We are very sorry for any inconvenience.
Many thanks for your patience.

Amy Winehouse - Hidden Treasures

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 11:15:00 +0000

Amy Winehouse performed, wrote and lived with a seductive and startling blend of confidence and vulnerability. Her early death may not have been a huge surprise to anyone who had an interest in her life, but it shocked her beloved Camden and far beyond because she was one of us. She may have had an exquisite voice redolent of broken hearts and lost weekends, but even when Amy was selling millions of records she could be found shooting pool and downing drinks in north London pubs.

Less than six months after her premature passing, fans now have Lioness: Hidden Treasures to remind them of what they’re missing. This release comprises alternate takes, rarities and unreleased tracks, while regular collaborators like Mark Ronson and Salaam Remi have been involved with compiling the album. The question persists, though: would this material have surfaced if Amy had lived?

Jazz standard Body and Soul, recorded with Tony Bennett, has already been released on the latter’s September 2011 album Duets II, and as a single. It was Amy’s last recording, is beautifully produced and poignantly sung throughout. The same is true for covers of Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow and The Girl from Ipanema. The ’68 version of The Zutons cover Valerie is a languid shuffle compared to the energetic single release, and an earlier recording of Tears Dry on Their Own soothes but never catches fire like the version found on Back to Black.

Amy’s tender, torn and devastating voice always impressed on record, but it was her lyrics that really mattered. Like Smoke, an excellent collaboration with Nas, is calm but opens with a typically dramatic Amy line: "I never wanted you to be my man / I just needed comforting." Musically it’s a cousin of Fine Young Cannibals’ The Flame, while its blend of wry rapping and heartfelt nostalgia adds up to the best thing here.

Elsewhere, Between the Cheats, with its sad title, doo-wop melancholy and lines like "I would take a thousand thumps for my love," recalls the darkness in Amy’s life. Just as sorrow crept in to her best songs, cuts like You Know I’m No Good, it’s here in spades. But no one ever expected Walking on Sunshine from a woman who battled through troubled relationships and addictions so publicly.

In the end, the best a posthumous album assembled in this way can offer is a welcome and dignified reminder of an artist’s abilities. Lioness manages this, but also leaves listeners sadly wondering where a less-troubled Amy might have been able to take her incredible talent.

Amy Winehouse – Valerie:

Are you up to date?

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 15:16:00 +0000

There has been some recent improvements, and bug fixes made to your Streaming Internet Radio toolbar. Are you up to date?

Our toolbar versions currently stand at:

IE - Version: 10.4.1.25
FF - Version: 10.5.0.42
Chrome - Version: 10.4.2.114

To check which version you have installed, please visit our version checker page. If your toolbar is out of date, please consider upgrading.

JLS – Jukebox

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 10:41:00 +0000

It's tempting to rattle through the stats – a pair of multi-platinum albums, five number one singles, a couple of BRIT awards – but this lot's success can be summarised in a single merchandising masterstroke. Three years ago Aston, JB, Marvin and Oritsé were trilling Boyz II Men covers on The X Factor; now they have their own range of branded condoms, Just Love Safe.

They may be more popular than Simon Cowell could possibly have imagined – he turned them down twice, you know – but JLS are no musical innovators. Actually, it's pretty appropriate that they've called this third album Jukebox, because the songs here invariably recall recent electro-RnB hits from their chart contemporaries: Taio Cruz, Chris Brown, Usher, even Britney Spears. You know the drill by now: there's a generous sprinkling of European cheese on the club bangers; the mid-tempo cuts come complete with Umbrella-style vocal hooks; and the lyrics offer coruscating observations about boys and girls on the floor, hands in the air, and drinks, um, in the cups.

In fact, even the record’s relatively adventurous tracks can't help but bring to mind other artists. Both glitchy and glossy, So Many Girls is what an unlikely bunk-up between Justin Bieber and Major Lazer might sound like, while Innocence has the sinewy elegance of a vintage Timbaland ballad: Justin Timberlake's What Goes Around… Comes Around, say, or Madonna's underrated Miles Away.

But while it's easy to sniff at JLS's slick and derivative chart missiles, it would be unsporting to be too dismissive. There's a decent pick'n'mix of ear candy here, especially the Hi-NRG lead single She Makes Me Wanna and a future smash called Do You Feel What I Feel?, which will get the kids bopping from Basildon to Bradford. As if to prove the point, the album ends with Shy of the Cool, a paean to teenage growing pains that the lads apparently penned before they appeared on The X Factor. Well-intentioned but clumsy ("She's authentic, so unsuspecting / This girl can go to school and be respected"), it's a welcome reminder of what a polished pop combo JLS have become.

JLS - Do You Feel What I feel:

Grooveshark App updates

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 18:18:00 +0000

If you are a regular user of our Grooveshark App, you will be aware of the changes that have been implemented by the team behind the app.

The app has been given a cleaner interface. Search suggestions are given to help you find what you are looking for. You can also see feeds from your friends – to see what they are listening to.

Discover new music
Create playlists
Save to favourites
Share with your friends

If you are new to Grooveshark, simply launch the app, and search for your favourite musicians – listen to free music on your journey around the web, with the Streaming Internet Radio toolbar.

FREE: Twitter App

noreply@blogger.com (Sean Duffy) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 17:47:00 +0000

We have beavering away on a updated Twitter App, and have now added it to your toolbar. The App allows you to see in near real time, the number of Tweets awaiting your attention.

The App also enables you to Tweet directly from your browser, from ANY webpage. This is a great way to share content without having to return to Twitter! Best of all, the app is completely free.

To get our Twitter App in your browser, please download our free toolbar.